Our Towns; A Boy Named Soup?

A few weeks ago, Mr. Black and his then-pregnant wife, Frances Schroeder, were eating takeout in their two-bedroom apartment here when she cracked her cookie and pulled out a fortune: ''You'll have a new home by the end of the year.''

What a lovely fortune, they thought. But as parents on the verge of a third child and living on Mr. Black's salary as an editor at an Internet magazine in Manhattan, they decided they needed help to make their cookie come true. ''Wouldn't it be great if we could convince somebody else to pay for it?'' Mr. Black thought.

So they looked around for an asset to sell. Their Saturn was leased, and not theirs to sell. Instead they settled on their unborn child. That's how Jason Black and Frances Schroeder became the parents who are trying to find a corporate sponsor to buy the naming rights to their child.

The baby boy, whom we'll call Nasdaq for the meantime, was born on Friday and returned home to much media attention as Mr. Black hawked the blank spot on his son's birth certificate for the suggested retail price of $500,000.

''We're creating an opportunity for a corporate entity to involve itself in a very large media event,'' said Mr. Black, referring to the unveiling of his son's name. And that's just for starters. ''There would be recurring interest in this young man. There would be life cycle events. Birthdays. Graduation. His first Little League game.'' Not to mention 13-year-old Black and Decker Black's inevitable lawsuit against his parents.

The couple is now double-parked at the intersection of various trends: communal resignation to corporate influence; parent-centrism; disorientation caused by sleep deprivation following childbirth.

Sitting with his 4-year-old daughter, Josephine, at a chain coffee joint here, Mr. Black, 32, incongruously mourned the closing of a local bookstore that once occupied the cafe's space, but apparently lost out to a nearby Border's. He misses that ''personal touch.'' It's the kind of thing you get from the hometown bookseller, or clothier or mechanic. Or from giving your child a name with meaning.

But all that's useless sentimentalism. What's in a name except for the memory of some old relative?

At least this couple is willing to acknowledge what most parents are too defensive to admit: children are a bad investment. High overhead. Long-term capitalization. No assurance of return in an investor's lifetime. Zero good will.

One season's supply of cleats and water bottles can gobble up that check from President Bush. Have you ever calculated what it cost per note for your young Horowitz to learn a Mozart piece from ''Teaching Little Fingers''? You could have lost that money in peace with a few shares of Lucent.

But that doesn't mean he shouldn't get all the advantages of any modern sports arena. Imagine the headline: ''Bugle Boy Boy Visits Pac Bell Park.''

Two weeks ago, Mr. Black and his wife placed the naming rights to their baby on two Internet auction sites. No one bid. But Mr. Black says he has had initial exchanges with someone who says he represents a consumer package goods company. Mr. Black doesn't know the product yet. Beer, perhaps?

''Do we want our kid to be named Budweiser?'' he asked. ''I don't know. My wife and I would have to sleep on it and see the ramifications.''

They've ruled out cigarette or gun companies, not that any have offered. For the moment they are calling their son names like ''Cutie Head'' and ''Chunky Monkey,'' which threatens to draw them into a trademark dispute with Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

Mr. Black said he had heard plenty of criticism. But he said he was just trying to secure his kids' future. ''That's one of the nice things about living in this era,'' Mr. Black said. ''There's the chance to try many different things and challenge the previously held notions and concepts.''

But it turns out Mr. Black is pretty conventional. If no corporate sponsor appears, they've got one of those free names picked out. Zane. But he said his wife was still holding out hope for an offer from Campbell Soup, ''because of the association with family, nutrition and wholesomeness.'' Definitely, wholesomeness.